Marco rose to his full height, biding his time as he sniffed the air. Janine watched with pride as his eyes scanned the battlefield, measuring the width of the crevice, noting unstable rocks and the position of his prey. He twirled the knives, exhaled, and waited for the critters above to pass a bit further, so one of the risky stones would be over the last one. Panic washed out of his eyes, replaced by a deep, unsatiated hunger.

He leaped forward, unbothered to conceal the sound. Janine tilted her head, fully focused on being ready to come to his aid. The claws on her legs dug into the ground, dragging up rocky parts. Five could be a tad difficult for the first hunt, even though the entire family had trained Marco in their own unique ways.

The drones stopped in their tracks, turning to face the source of the sound. Marco’s feet crashed into the opposite wall, causing another loud boom and dislodging the unstable stone. In a somersault, he landed ahead of the confused drones, burying his knives under the head of the front one, right into the joint where the chitin armor left a slit to permit the neck’s mobility. Twisting his weapons, the Wolfkin severed nerves and tore them out, retreating just in time to evade scything blows. One fell.

Stones and earth thundered from above, smashing against the carapace. The drones halted their attack, believing they were under attack from more than one foe, and a knife flew from Marco’s paw, landing directly in the round, black cluster of an eye. The insectoid let out a shriek as it tried to reach for the jammed weapon, and Marco closed the distance, kicking at the handle to send it even deeper. He grabbed the handle of the knife with his toes and dove to the left, falling so that the stabs aimed at him would pierce the stone. His quick movement wrenched the knife from the dying drone.

Stone and dust unleashed briefly hid Marco, but Janine’s hearing helped her to visualize what happened in this chaos. Two drones continued to lurk behind, searching for the non-existent assailant. Meanwhile, the last drone tried to spear Marco and then mount him, misinterpreting his fall as a mistake. However, it missed its first attack and three of its legs slammed into the wall above the boy’s head. Marco punched with his free arm, lifting the drone before the long mandibles could close on his snout.

Clever. Janine wanted to clap but held herself back. Her son didn’t panic, not even when the sharp debris hit him or when the drone pushed him to the ground. All too often, little ones would mindlessly lash out in situations like this and get bogged down in their inability to pierce the chitin armor. But in throwing his opponent off himself, he not only gave himself enough time to pick up the knife from his leg, but also exposed the vulnerable underbelly.

Both blades slipped between the armor joints, and Marco pushed his arms further, rupturing the organs. Ripping his weapons free, he stabbed again and again, throwing the convulsing body onto its back, mercilessly slashing and rending the insectoid, cutting off its legs until the thing was dead. He raised his head, alerted by the tapping of needles against the ground, and rushed away, escaping the incoming stabs that pierced the veil of sand.

What a wonderful boy. Janine admired his planned retreat as he led his pursuers to the wall best suited for scaling up. Thirty seconds, three dead bodies. Sure, most girls would have slaughtered a dozen by now, but only Bogdan and Ignacy had surpassed Marco’s record, and his older brothers had cheated by abusing their right to bear arms. The two idiots had brought a crate of explosives to the training session, cratering the field and laughing like maniacs.

“Correct, Marco,” Janine quietly praised him for not getting disoriented. Marco had planned his escape to achieve more than one goal. Even now, the drones had moved away from the Normies. Marco gained the distance, sheathed his knives, and climbed up, groaning from the pain in his knees.

The drones followed. Tiny, barely visible sticky hairs covered their stalk-like legs, allowing the creatures to traverse up even over the flat surface. The crevice’s uneven surface was child’s game for them, and soon they gained on Marco, their black clusters fixated on his legs. The mandibles opened to bite him…

Marco springboarded off the wall, screaming from the pain that shot through his knees while simultaneously laughing, pleased to be in control of the situation. In free fall, he flew past the first bug and mounted the second, landing his knives in its eyes and killing it instantly. The drone above him jumped down and crashed into the falling bodies of its comrade and Marco, who blocked two slices aimed at his neck. The three bodies hit the ground with a thud and Marco rolled to the side, preparing for the onslaught of the charging drone.

His leg buckled, his knee no longer could support him despite the medication and relief provided by the mechanical exoskeleton. Marco clenched his teeth, realizing he couldn’t evade the stab targeting his right eye.

The ground exploded beneath the warlord as she sprang to the fighters, taking the blow to her own wrist. The sharp blades didn’t even penetrate her hide, and Marco counterattacked, cutting the drone’s neck. Janine calmly stood aside, waiting for her joyously shouting boy to circle around the wounded bug. He constantly pestered the thing with feints, and when the drone tried to retreat back into the tunnels, he cut one of its long legs. The wounded creature made one last attack but missed, and the knives ended its life in a violent rain of stabs.

“Mom, I’ve made it!” Marco gasped, breathing hard from excitement.

“Of course you did. You are a descendant of the Blessed Mother, a son of the Wolf Tribe. Murder is in your blood. The thought of you failing has never crossed my mind. Five at the cost of an eye is rather good for the first time.” Janine picked up the most intact corpse. “Tell me, what were your mistakes?”

“I forgot that they could leap off the walls, forgot how heavy they are, and overestimated my limits,” Marco replied, and Janine broke a corpse over his head in two, showering her son in a white ichor. Her son opened his arms and basked in the waters of acceptance, a smile never leaving his lips. Then he whined a little and tried to massage his legs through the artificial fiber muscles.

Janine knelt down to help. They pushed aside the tight bundles of fibers to reveal his swollen skin, thankfully devoid of any cracks. Janine tore off a piece of the insectoid and gave it to Marco to feed on, using the gel Maxence had given her to ease the cramps and reduce the swelling.

“I feel weird.” Marco blinked away tears and grabbed his sides. “As if I am about to pop.”

“It is normal.” Janine pressed two fingers against his neck, sensing his expanding carotid artery. “Ravager’s gift has been activated in you, son. The power has rewarded you, and your body is undergoing a bit of reconstruction, growing stronger and tougher. It’s scary the first time, but don’t resist it; the doctors will check you up later.”

Doctors… Janine tasted the idea in her mouth. Wolfkins didn’t like to ask the medical staff for help, but didn’t the doctors cure Janine’s condition? Surely, there must be an abundance of medical clinics in Houstad. If cloned limbs and even rudimentary genetic enhancements are now available for the wealthy, there had to be a cure for Marco’s underdeveloped condition. But what will the shamans say?

Who gives a crap? Her inner voice replied in a mocking Terrific tone. Not like they’ll kill me or Marco. Clearly, the Spirits themselves put the idea into the shit pot you call the head. Act and repent later, idiot.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Well done. Congratulations on passing your initialization, Marco. No, hold back your howl,” she told him. “Let’s go meet the people. Keep your right eye closed for a day to remember the mistake.”

She gave Marco a little more time to rest his knees while he cleaned his weapons to prevent rust from settling in. Once the deed was done, the family climbed from the crevice together and for the ridge, where they came face to face with a group of scared Normies.

They looked unusual by the standards of the Outer Lands. Two men and a woman, dressed in simple white linen shirts, pants, and bright jackets that simply screamed for the attention of predators, set up a camera set and filmed the passing crawler and the columns of the Third Army. They all wore yellow armbands identifying them as press, and one man held a microphone. Upon spotting the Wolfkins, the people instinctively froze in place, their noses wrinkling in response to Marco’s odor.

“Peace.” Janine raised her paws, showing that she meant no harm. “What are you doing here at such a late hour?”

“We’re from the Sights Unseen!” The man showed Janine a press pass with a trembling hand. “We came here to report about the army’s movement. You guys...”

“I’m female…” Janine interrupted.

“Figure of speech, lady, sorry,” the man said. “You people made quite a splash! Won a war! Saved a settlement on the way to vacation! Care for a private interview?”

“Sights Unseen?” Marco stood on his toes, looking curiously at the people, forgetting the pain in his knees. “What’s that?”

“Press. Journalists. Very evil people who want to make the Blessed Mother and us look bad. These psychos risk their lives to film things, and then they lie and twist the truth for views. They also have strange morals, like that Iternian who rides in our crawler. Don’t talk to them, or they’ll portray you as a monster in a news report,” Janine cautioned him, positioning herself in front of her son to shield him from the camera. “You should’ve been more careful. There were insectoids in the cracks leading up to this hill.”

“Iternian?” The man blinked. “I take it he is a reporter too? Can you ask him…”

“She is lying!” The woman snapped angrily.

“Ask for a dialog, Lizzy,” another man said, licking his lips nervously.

“But she is bullshitting him! Kid, we have no intention of harming your image or anything else. We bring the truth to the people.” The woman smiled kindly. “If it won’t be too much, would you answer a few…”

“Truth comes in many forms.” Janine snorted. “Wolfkins are kidnapping people in the middle of the ritual for unknown reasons. Locals fear the worst,” she recited a headline from one of the most humiliating episodes in her career.

Janine was young and foolish then, and she had no idea how wicked the reporters could be. So she had revealed herself and chatted with the strange people who were filming the aftermath of Wolfkin’s escort of the freed prisoners to safety. The police and army units then took action to peacefully subdue the cultists, completing the two-stage operation. A few days later, the newspaper spread far and wide, suggesting cannibalism on the wolf hag’s part. Martyshkina and even Terrific never let her live this one down, and she had worked twice as hard to convince the locals that she didn’t take civilians away to devour. It had been harder back then, since she had regularly enjoyed a healthy diet of torn raiders’ limbs.

“That…” The woman bit her lip. “Okay, fair. But Sights Unseen issued an official apology for the misleading article and fired the asses of the bastards responsible for it. You can’t hold it against us forever...”

“Try me,” Janine said.

“It was decades ago! I wasn’t even in a project back then! Woman, what is your problem... Wait, what was it about the insectoids?” The reporter stuttered. “You are joking, right? Here, of all places?”

“I am afraid they are not!” A cheerful voice spoke. “You can check the crack; the corpses are still warm.”

Two men came up the hill. One was tall and muscular, a clear New Breed from his height alone. The business suit and bulletproof vest underneath didn’t restrict his movement at all, and his face was scarless. He had rough features, as if someone had carved him out of a slab of stone, but he kept his gaze fixed on Janine, deducing her as the main threat. A bodyguard. She relaxed, respecting his concern for his employer.

The other man was a head shorter than his companion; he carried an archaic laser shotgun slung over his leather jacket. He was dressed for the weather, in thick pants and a turtleneck. His keen, gray eyes looked over Janine, and the warlord returned the gesture. She had seen this person before, but where? Because of her long life, her memory sometimes played tricks on her, and now it was doubly annoying. The stooped posture, a head slightly forward... A traveling merchant, perhaps?

“Sir…” The journalist choked on her words, while her colleagues quickly turned the camera to film the man. “D… D…”

“No need to be official. Just call me Daniel.” The man waved his hand, and his bodyguard put a hand over the camera lens, covering a distance of thirty paces in a single movement. His legs did not tear the grass; the man had precision and excellent speed. No, a traveling merchant could hardly afford such a quality servant. “I… somewhat own property in these parts and came to meet a friend tonight when my bodyguards warned about an intrusion. We wanted to settle it like in the miserable old days, but thank the Planet, you’ve already done it.” He bowed to Janine, and she relaxed. There wasn’t even a hint of aggression emanating from the man’s scent.

“Marco did it, not I.” Janine nodded at her son, never once letting her gaze leave the man. “Have you been to the Outer Lands recently, by any chance, sir?”

“My line of work carries me everywhere. But for the past few decades, I have regrettably remained in the Core Lands.” Daniel glanced at the wall. “How bad is it there?”

“Could be worse.” Janine shrugged. “Life improves, step by step. A bakery has opened. At least we blood sacrifices are no longer such a nuisance.” She wanted to pin the female reporter to the ground with a hard stare, but the woman ignored her, concentrating fully on Daniel.

Probably a famous farm owner or has some kind of criminal connections. Janine decided.

“Sir, we better clear the area.” The bodyguard spoke for the first time. “We are exposed here.”

“Exposed? Where else can we be safer than in the presence of a warlord?”

“Know about the tribe, I gather?” Janine asked.

“Duty demands no less of me.” Daniel put a hand to his chest and addressed Marco. “I know nearby farmers if you want to take a shower. And have them check your eye.”

“No need. The eyes are fine, and this is an honor.” Marco smiled and slapped a soaked white paw across his chest. “I became a real man tonight, mister!”

“A smelly man.” The farm owner pitched his nose, but then flashed a smile and came closer, bowing gracefully to the boy. “Congratulations, Marco! May you see many joyful years!” He turned his head to look at the crawler. The massive machine moved steadily on the widest road, reserved specifically for military transport. Its many projectors created pillars of light amidst the dark clouds overhead. “It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it? Soldiers are coming home, and weapons are moving to rest. A glimpse of the future to come.”

“Worth dying for,” Janine said.

“Worth fighting and living for, Janine,” Daniel corrected her.

“I don’t remember giving you my name, sir.” Janine narrowed her eyes. That she knew this man but couldn’t remember him infuriated her to no end. A former enemy who had changed his ways? An allied mercenary?

“Oh, but you did. Several times, in fact.” Daniel shook her wrist. “I wish you peace and happiness, Warlord Janine. Welcome to the Core Lands, I hope you will like it here.”

“Thank you… Daniel,” Janine forced herself to say his name. Her instincts were running wild inside her body. She sensed no threat from the man; instead, she saw him as a long-lost tribal member who had stopped by to say hello. At the same time, something inside her urged her to remain professional with him. Leaving the questions for later, she placed her hand on Marco’s shoulder. “Everyone is safe. Howl to your heart’s content.”

And so he did. With his fiercest howl yet, Marco threw his head up, filling the skies with a sound of happiness, gratitude for acceptance, and a promise to protect and serve. His voice trembled a little, but Janine was proud of him. Females always practiced their howls in secret; that was why they sounded so bombastic when they passed the test. There is beauty in honesty. And she gave birth to this honesty.

A bone-chilling howl erupted from seemingly everywhere around them, causing the journalists to fall to their knees and cover their ears. The bodyguard jumped in front of Daniel, suspiciously scanning the plains and hills. Janine’s ears heard the stomping of two dozen more legs closing in on the hill. More bodyguards fast approached from afar.

Marco’s howl sounded like a trickle of water, whereas the newcomer’s howl was an avalanche, a wrath of nature personified, so terrible and divine that it shook the nearby trees, bending them under the force of the unleashed air. Before the camera could fly away and hit the rocks, Janine caught it.

Blessed, truly. The Blessed Mother accepted Marco in person. Janine did not know why Ravager wasn’t in the crawler, and she didn’t care. She hugged her son, thanking the Spirits for this gift. When she stood up, she saw that a part of her white ichor and gore had been licked off Marco’s shoulder, and wet drool covered his black fur in its place. And on the ground behind him were four gigantic footprints.